


Savages

by JazzRaft



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Love/Hate, M/M, Prisoner of War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 06:34:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10611243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JazzRaft/pseuds/JazzRaft
Summary: The prince may be a prisoner, but his words are Nyx's cage.(a moment from Myshka)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on [tumblr](http://jazzraft.tumblr.com/post/158601808477/but-nocnyx-with-this-oh-so-youre-on-their-side) to fill an anonymous request.

The chains hurt.

Nyx didn’t have to wear them to know that they did.

When he wasn’t sniping at Noctis to sit still while he treated the cuts and bruises they left behind on his skin, Nyx could see the wounds they left beneath, too.

The prince was brave. Fiery. He spit and _bit_ and _broke_ anyone who laid a hand on him – saved Nyx from the trouble of doing the same thing himself. He cursed back double at any Nif commanders that cursed at him. He had kicked and punched at the people who wanted to put the chains on him in the first place – despite Nyx’s vehement objections to anything of the sort. But they hadn’t cut his tether to the Crystal yet, and Noctis was _dangerous_ if he could still pull from the Lucian Armiger. The chains were made from magitek, crafted specifically to dampen one’s connection to the Crystal, keeping the royals from calling on their powers to fight.

Nyx had a hard time debating Verstael about it without sounding like he was against the Empire. He was sure it didn’t help his case to stand back and laugh while Noctis clawed and kicked out teeth the first time they tried to put him in chains. He almost wished he had helped, after the only thing Verstael could think of to make Noctis cooperate was to threaten one of his friends. The stillness that fell over Noctis then made Nyx’s stomach curdle, souring even more at the stiff obedience with which the prince allowed himself to be bound.

The first few days were the hardest. The first morning Nyx checked on him, Noctis was on the floor pressing bedsheets to his bloodied wrists where he’d scratched and the iron scraped and staring blankly at the crimson dotting the pristine white fabric. It was hard to help him when the instant Nyx’s fingers threatened to brush over his, Noctis snapped to his feet and shoved him away. It took an infection before the prince allowed the warrior to help him, and even then it was all back-handed comments and the occasional twist of his hands to scratch Nyx whenever he threw a curse back at the prince.

After the first week, the struggling desisted enough for the cuts to heal over into scabs. But there was still an infection. Nyx could see it spreading up from deep down inside of Noctis. His eyes were growing darker every day, hate and hurt seeping like venom in his blood. He was getting quieter, a particular lethality to the silence. Since too much injury had resulted from close proximity to the prince, Nifs had taken to taunting him from a distance. If Nyx’s heated glares didn’t shut them up, the icy stare from the prince, like the slip of a needle beneath fingernails, frightened them right away.

Nyx was proud to have claimed this savage beauty as his prize – even if only for appearances. And even if the little spitfire drove him out of his mind. Which was how the silence started to bother Nyx. The rabid outbursts, the feral snarls, the utter chaos of his rage was beginning to simmer down beneath an inanimate fury. While bewitching in the way it unnerved the Nifs, Nyx was starting to miss the wild and reckless anger over this chilling resentment.

“They might take them off if you were a little nicer to them,” he teased one day as he walked Noctis back to his room from a failed experiment to cut his tie to the Crystal.

The prince didn’t reply. Didn’t even look at him. Just glared listlessly at his feet, dark circles like bruises beneath his darker eyes. Nyx gnawed on the inside of his cheek. Yeah, no, not at the point for ironic sympathy jokes yet. _No duh, Nyx._ Still, he wanted to get a rise out of the kid. Spark some of that mad brutality back into his veins. It was too entertaining to watch him inflict violence on the Nifs. Nyx wanted some of that back.

“My guys aren’t going to let them do anything to your friends, you know? Drautos is a lot of talk, not a lot of bite. He can’t touch someone’s claim.”

“That’s _real_ comforting,” Noctis finally hissed. “Makes me feel so much better about imagining – what did he threaten last – ‘cutting out their tongues so they can’t scream for mercy?’”

The glare Noctis threw him could tear flesh right off the bone. Lucky for Nyx that he had a thick skin. And that the whole goal was to get him so hot with anger that it burned out some of that deathly chill in his eyes.

“He’s harmless,” Nyx went on. “Most of them are.”

“Tell that to the people being executed for the whole world to see.”

“It’s a power-play…”

“Oh, so you’re on their side now?”

Noctis stopped and snapped at him, blue eyes glinting with the edge he’d been tempering beneath that silence. _There it is._

“I’m not saying I approve,” Nyx said. “I’m just telling you how it is.”

“Like I need _you_ to tell me,” Noctis snarled. “It’s _your fault_ people are dying in the first place!”

Hadn’t expected the return fire to be directed at him. Or for it to burn so harshly through his own blood like it did. Because there was truth to it that Nyx didn’t want to admit to himself. No matter that his being in Insomnia had everything to do with saving the royal family, people were still dying because his homeland had turned traitor. There were Galahdians he had used to call brothers that thrived off the vengeance slaughter awarded them.

Noctis glared at him, assuming his point made as he started to walk away. Nyx’s arm lashed out without thinking, gripping the link of magitek chain between the fetters on his wrists and pulling. Noctis stumbled back into him, growling and shoving off of his chest. Nyx fisted the chain and jerked him back, Noctis’s glare brimming with outrage and filling Nyx’s vision.

“ _Don’t_ compare _me_ to _them_ ,” Nyx said through gritted teeth, a fury he’d been ignoring within himself breaking into how tightly he gripped that chain. “I’m trying to save your skinny ass, brat.”

“Doing a damn great job, _hero_.”

Noctis’s wrists shifted and he wound the chain around Nyx’s hand, binding the two of them together. The metal pressed cold around Nyx’s fingers and Noctis gave a spiteful _pull_ of his own. It dragged Nyx forward another inch, face so close to his he could feel the fire of his breath against his cheek. Noctis’s eyes were as clear and sharp as polished steel, and his voice was as cold as the chain tying them together.

“You can keep me from the broadcasts all you want if you think that’s some kind of mercy. But I will never be _grateful_ for you trying to spare me the sight of my own people being killed like cows. I’m not _indebted to you_ for keeping me alive when better people than me are being murdered just for _living_ here. So you can take your self-righteous bullshit and feed it to the Nifs, because those are the only people you’re helping. Now, _get off_ of me.”

His words bled with menace, that voice as black as the Infernian’s envy. It made Nyx’s blood course faster. As much as the truth slid like a dagger between his ribs and _twisted_ inside… the intensity of the prince’s stare was mesmerizing. That he could glare up at Nyx, glare at _any_ Nif or Galahdian or cruel creature threatening him and be so _unafraid._ There was power in those eyes, even without the magic of the old kings behind them. Nyx felt drawn to it, his contempt. And his compassion for the lives of his people over his own.

And he knew he didn’t deserve to be. Because as much as he was against the Empire, Noctis was right. He’d helped to bring this evil into Insomnia, even if his intentions now were against the Nifs. He didn’t deserve to drop his eyes down to the split lips and crave them cursing his name. He didn’t deserve to imagine Noctis punishing him for his betrayal by wrapping that chain around his neck. Or imagine that he might one day have redeemed himself enough for Noctis to let him pin his arms to the sheets and tangle that chain between them.

He was proud to have claimed Noctis. But Nyx didn’t deserve him.

He loosened his grip on the chain and Noctis tore himself free, hurrying down the hall. He couldn’t get away from Nyx fast enough and Nyx couldn’t blame him. For all the steps he was taking to keep him safe, the chain was still there.


End file.
